The Truth, The Whole Truth, Nothing But The Truth
by MKStanley
Summary: Debra Morgan finds out about her brother's nighttime activities. That's one hell of a revelation for a cop. Spoilers for the Season 6 finale. Incest, I suppose. They aren't technically related but I don't want anybody bitching at me. Oh yeah, and only rated M because... well, it's Debra. What do you expect?


The Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing But the Truth

My mind mulled over what the shrink had said. I hated to admit it, even to myself, but she was right. I loved Dexter. So what if he was my brother? We weren't blood related, and with the amount of time we spent together, we were practically boyfriend and girlfriend anyways. I shook my head to clear it - boyfriend and girlfriend? I mean, sure I loved him, but there was no way he felt the same! Besides, I'd seen enough romances between coworkers to know that it'd never work out. They'd always try to protect each other, no matter what the cost, and end up losing a criminal because they were overly worried about their partner.

_'Just like Dexter.'_ A voice in my head reminded me. I exhaled loudly. Fuck. I was overcomplicating this. I loved him, but nothing could work out, and that was that. That same voice told me that Dexter worried about me all the time, and had yet to screw up a case. I tried to force it out of my head, to just focus on starting the car and driving, but I kept seeing him grab the crazy bitch and 'Wormwood' and throwing them into the hallway, putting himself in danger for my sake.

I knew that any single one of my past boyfriends would have made a run for it as soon as they realized that poison gas was spewing out of her backpack, but Dexter grabbed me - and the lightheaded giddiness was a result of the gas, I swear - and forced himself up against a door knowing that he could have died. All to make sure I was safe. I sighed as I noticed that I was now driving towards the abandoned church that Gellar and 'Doomsday Adam' had made their base. I had asked Dexter to check it one more time, maybe find something that everyone had missed the first time around.

I resigned myself to my fate - stuttering and blushing like some lovesick teenager whenever we were in the same room - and continued driving in the silence of my thoughts. When my psychiatrist had told me in no uncertain terms that I was in love with my brother, I had laughed nervously - thinking it was a joke - then yelled at her a bit. Standard operating procedure for me when I was scared, and I think she knew it.

Now whenever we sat down and had a few beers together, I had to struggle just to keep my voice steady. I don't even want to think about how badly I wanted to pounce on him and feel his-

_Buaaaaaaaaaa!_

I was thrown out of my thoughts, thankfully, by a loud honk from the cars behind me, signaling that the light was green. I muttered under my breath, "Asshole..." then took off, painfully aware how eager I was to see him.

I pulled into the church parking lot and drove up next to his empty car. I shut off the engine, then inhaled deeply and steeled my nerves. I got out of the car and opened the door to the church, then entered. I was surprised to see that he wasn't in the main room, hanging from the ceiling and examining a drop of blood, or something equally ridiculous, but then my breath caught as I heard panicked, muffled screaming. I drew my gun and headed for the basement, carefully and quietly opening the door but still unable to see what was going on.

Worst-case scenarios flew through my mind; Dexter bleeding, injured - I rounded the corner and brought my gun up, years of training and instincts guiding my hands, but my mind still on my brother - Dexter tortured, Dexter... holding a knife? I stopped, my mind unable to function. The walls and floor were covered in clear plastic sheets and on a similarly protected table - saran wrap holding him down - laid Travis! I smiled, I knew Dexter could do it! He wasn't usually the one to physically apprehend the bad guys but hey, we got him!

"Don't fuck with my sister, you worthless scum."

I heard his words, and I was still smiling when Dexter brought the knife down into his chest, silencing his muffled cried for good. My eyes widened, and I stood stunned, barely aware of my gun dropping and clattering to the floor. Dexter spun and his eyes... God they terrified me. It wasn't the Dexter I knew, the Dexter with serious, stoic eyes that held a surprising warmth whenever he looked at Harrison or I. No, this Dexter was cold, with dark flames looking for whoever it was that dared to disturb him. This Dexter, I knew, would kill without guilt or remorse, and probably had before.

I liked to think I was strong woman, and many men knew first hand that I was not to be fucked with, but when I saw him and those ruthless, vicious eyes met mine, I collapsed. I looked up to see his eyes clear and fill with a myriad collection of emotions; sorrow, a hint of guilt, anger - but not at me, I hoped - and most of all, concern.

"Oh shit... Deb?"

I could say nothing in response. What do you say to seeing your brother kill a defenseless person? Sure, he was evil, but my brother was the absolute last person I expected to see do this. Fucking Gandhi would have surprised me less. He began walking over to me and I scrambled away from him.

"Fuck! Just, fuck! Fucking stay away from me! God fucking damn it!"

"Deb, please -"

"Don't you fucking start with me, God dammit! What the fuck, Dex?"

He sighed deeply, "Look, Deb, I'm sorry you had to see that."

I stood up,

"Oh, you're fucking sorry I had to see that? Not for killing a fucking defenseless person? Fuck!"

He frowned but his voice stayed the same, calming, soothing,

"Sis, he tried to kill you. He was going to kill Harrison."

"Yeah? So-fucking-what? That-that wasn't you, Dex! I know you, and that-"

I broke off, too pissed and terrified to continued. I leaned heavily against the wall, then slid down it and dropped my head into my hands.

"God dammit..."

I heard his footsteps, hesitantly growing louder, then a rustling as he removed his apron and sat next to me. I felt, rather than heard, him reach an arm out towards me, then stop and retract it. I wanted him to hold me and tell me that it was okay, it was self defense and that it'd never happened before and would never happen again. But every time I imagined him saying that, I'd see his eyes, dark and gleeful at the feeling of ending a life.

"Deb... Please, let me explain."

I stayed silent for a moment, "Just answer me truthfully, Dex. This isn't the first time you've... done this, is it?"

I already knew the answer, but when I heard him hesitate and gently yet firmly answer in the affirmative, I nearly lost it. I tried to hold in my tears, but a sob escaped me and suddenly Dexter's strong arms were on my shoulders. My mind was yelling at me to shake them off, call the police, and arrest this... monster. But my heart overpowered it, so I reached over and clung to him, crying into his shoulder.

This was my brother, my protector, the borderline pacifist that could fix everything with a grill, a beer and a comforting arm. He was my safe haven, and I trusted him with both my life and my sanity. I tried to understand why I was clinging to the man who had just betrayed my trust when I saw in my mind the expression he wore when he realized it was me who discovered him. In some ways, it was identical to the one he had when he pushed me away from the noxious gases, and I realized that he was more concerned for me and my well-being than he was with his own.

I chuckled slightly - despite the circumstances - but it came out as a strangled sob. I had just discovered his deepest, darkest secret, and he was worried about how it would affect me. His calming hand on my back began rubbing up and down, massaging gently, and I tried get my breathing back to normal.

"Come on Deb, let's get you home. I'll explain everything there, I promise."

I let loose a painful and sarcastic bark of laughter,

"Yeah, 'cause I'm about to trust a fuckin' murderer."

But deep down, I knew I was, and he did too.

"Come on Deb, I've never lied to you. Not once."

I sighed, then he stood up and I took his offered hand. He brought me into a hug and I was frozen in spot, many different and conflicting emotions running through me,

"I'm sorry Deb. I really am."

I eventually gave in and hugged him back. If it weren't for his arms, I think I would have collapsed, because he leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. My knees turned into the ballistics gel our forensic department used, and he must have noticed because he gently lifted me off my feet and carried me out to my car. He set me in the passenger side, then climbed into the driver's seat.

"Keys, Deb?"

I hesitated, "What about your car?"

He shook his head, "Everything here can wait until morning."

I remembered the corpse that he left on the table in the basement and I shuddered. He put a rough hand on my arm to calm me, and I studied it. Were those really the same hands that had remorselessly driven a dagger through a man's chest? That had lovingly tended to dozens of steaks? That had comforted me after a bad breakup, or relieved the knots in my muscles after a particularly trying day at work? I closed my eyes and leaned back, wishing things could just be simple. Wishing I wasn't in love with my brother. Wishing my brother wasn't a killer.

We drove home in deafening silence. He opened the door for me, like a true gentleman, then closed it and led me up the porch. We entered the house, Dex locking the door behind us, and then I flopped myself down on the couch. He came back with a few extra beers but didn't take one for himself. I tilted my head questioningly at him as I opened one and took a quick swig.

"You're gonna need them more than I do, sis. It's not gonna be pleasant."

I exhaled loudly, "Yeah, 'cause what's worse than finding out your brother's a fucking murderer?"

It was rhetorical, but he answered anyways.

"Finding out that your brother is a serial killer, perhaps."

I choked on my beer. It was cold, but it suddenly tasted a helluva lot worse than usual.

"Wait, what? Fuck, if this is a joke it ain't fucking funny."

He sighed and closed his eyes, than began to speak in a monotone voice that somehow made his story even more disturbing. He started with the death of his mother, sitting in her blood for days staring at her decapitated skull. I knew that whatever happened before dad adopted him was bad but... Jesus, this was horrifying. I wanted to hug and comfort him, but then he started talking about his 'dark passenger' and I struggled to stay quiet for an entirely different reason. He went on for awhile, detailing his misadventures with dad and explaining 'Harry's Code', and I finally understood why it always seemed like he was dad's favorite.

The next part really freaked me out. I learned that he was Rudy's (Brian's, whatever) blood brother, and while I found it terrifying that I had dated his serial killer brother, I was also comforted by the reassurance that we were most definitely not biologically related. He continued on for a while, then hesitated as if he wanted to conceal the next part.

"Come on Dex, you can tell me."

He sighed, then nodded. "You remember the Bay Harbor Butcher?"

I nodded, confused, "Yeah, 58 bodies chopped up and dumped in the marina where... your boat was... Oh my fucking god, please tell me you're kidding!"

I was practically in hysterics, my brother was the Bay Harbor Butcher? That was impossible, he turned out to be Sergeant Doakes, right? But Dexter just shook his head sadly.

"I can't fucking believe this! And the box of blood slides? He, what? Searched your apartment? He found your secret out so you blew him up? Jesus fucking christ, Dex!"

He shook his head frantically, "No Deb, that isn't what happened, I swear."

But I was in full blown panic attack mode right now, I wasn't listening to a word he said.

"How many people have you killed, Dex? How many!? What could possibly-"

I was interrupted by him practically tackling me onto the couch. I was stunned into silence, he had never gotten physical with me (I blushed at the double entendre), plus he was hovering over me, holding my arms above my head and with our noses practically touching. I knew about six different ways to throw him off of me, but I didn't use any of them. I just stared into his dark brown eyes, trying to understand what was happening.

Feeling his weight on top of me and looking into his dark, beautiful eyes was too much. My heart began to race and I felt a blush appear on my face. He seemed to realize what was happening but instead of fighting it he slowly leaned down and kissed me deeply. Our tongues intermingled, fighting for control, and I trembled as I became acutely aware of his leg in between mine.

However, it seemed that he misinterpreted my shaking, because he quickly pulled back - leaving me disappointed - and curled up on the end of the couch, muttering apologies and grabbing a beer for himself.

"Sorry, shit, sorry, I don't know what came over me, I just wanted to get your attention and then-"

He cut himself off, then inhaled deeply and looked at me.

"Sorry, it's just- you're really attractive, you know that right?"

I felt a warm tingle inside. Previous boyfriends had said nicer things and had failed to elicit such a response, but they weren't Dexter. He shook his head, "Whatever, I'll go find a motel or something, you can decide what to do tomorrow. You need your sleep."

He stood up to leave but after three beers and a kiss I was feeling a lot more confident. I stood up, blocking his path, them slapped him lightly on the cheek, leaving my hand there.

"That's for not telling me sooner."

I leaned in and kissed him, almost as passionately as he had kissed me.

"You aren't going anywhere until you tell me everything. Now sit back down and finish your fucking story."

He smiled dazedly, then sat down and continued.

"It was that crazy chick, Lila West. She was a pyromaniac, and somehow got the idea that we were soul mates and that we would run away together, which would be difficult if Sergeant Doakes put me in prison. I left him in a cage, confident that I could fabricate, sabotage, or recover some evidence before he was found.

She turned the gas on, and left a candle burning. That's why I went to New York. She needed to be 'dealt' with. I swear, I never killed anybody who didn't completely deserve it."

I looked at him, studied him, trying to discern any untruthfulness, then realized that he was being completely and totally honest and open with me. I probably should have been creeped out, a serial killer was spilling his heart out to me (metaphorically speaking, of course), but he was my brother for fucks sake! So instead, I felt honored that he was telling me everything.

Granted, I did kind of walk in on him as he was in the process of... Who knows what, but he could have easily lied to me and convinced me that it was self-defense. I scooted closer to him on the couch, then finally abandoned subtlety and hugged him, resting my head on his chest and listening to the beating of his heart.

The things he had been through when he was a toddler had left him with a psychotic and dangerous side, something I would gladly see destroyed. But instead of becoming like Rudy, I could see he had conquered it. I could see it in the way he looked at Harrison, in the way he looked at me, even. And I loved him even more for it. That just left a couple of things.

"So... All those cases that we couldn't find enough evidence to convict...?"

He nodded, "Just about."

I sighed, "Dex, really. How many people have you killed?"

He hesitated, obviously not wanted to upset me, but I had to know. He sighed, then spoke

"One hundred and twenty nine."

I closed my eyes and whispered under my breath.

"My God..."

I sat up, already missing the contact.

"Dexter, I'm the Lieutenant of Miami Metro Homicide. What am I supposed to do with you?"

He shrugged, "What should you do or what do I think you should do?"

I laughed bitterly, "Look at me, I'm asking a serial killer what I should do with his secret."

"If it makes you feel any better, just think of me as a kind of Batman. A vigilante."

I giggled for real this time, "I can't believe I'm having this discussion! With my brother, no less."

He paused, then frowned in thought,

"We aren't brother and sister, you know. If we were, I would probably feel really weird when I did this."

He leaned in for another kiss, emboldened by my positive response. He broke it off, then said

"But Deb, I know you. I trust you. Whatever you're going to do, it's going to be the right thing."

I sighed, he really wasn't making this any easier on me.

"Just give me a straight answer Dex, what do you want?"

What he said next terrified and thrilled me in equal amounts,

"Well... you, Deb."

Dex was the only guy in my life who was single, who wasn't a complete asshole, and wasn't trying to get into my pants.

'Not that I'd complain about that last part.'

I thought to myself with a blush. I would probably regret this later, but I just couldn't do it. He was my brother and best friend through childhood, and my entire life I had come to him with my problems. Was I seriously considering turning him in? No. Besides, I knew that he had probably saved more people than he had killed. Regardless of his intentions, his purpose was noble and heroic. As a cop, vigilantes were dangerous and needed to be stopped, but hearing how dad had focused his need into a weapon against the other psychotic and murderous dregs of society had convinced me as a sister, (well, kind of) that he was a good person.

"Now I have a question for you, Deb. Why have you trusted me in all of this? Why did you let the Bay Harbor Butcher carry you out to a car and drive in the middle of the night?"

I had to think about it for all of two seconds.

"Because I love you, you 'tard."

He smiled, and it seemed different from his normal smile. More genuine, somehow.

"Well Deb, I can't honestly say I know what love is, being a sociopath and all, but I know that if I'm capable, I love you too. You and Harrison are the most important things in my life."

I wasn't certain whether to be disturbed or flattered, but I realized that this was the best anybody could get so I leaned in for another kiss.

"Dex, you know that I don't like the idea of you going around butchering people, right? You can't just... not?"

He smiled gently at me, "Come on, you've dealt with enough serial killers to know the answer to that."

I nodded sadly, "Yeah, I know. Still, I like the idea of being separated from you - for any reason - even less. Just... don't get caught, alright?"

"That was Harry's first rule."

I relaxed into him, accepting that nobody was perfect. Sure he was a serial killer, but he was _my_ serial killer. One of the good guys, more or less. A thought popped into my head,

"Ummm, Dex?"

"Hmmm?"

"Does this make us... well, ya know?"

He raised a questioning eyebrow as he looked down at me.

"Make us what?"

I squeaked out a very uncertain and very uncharacteristic response,

"Umm, boyfriend and girlfriend?"

He smiled _my_ smile and leaned down, kissing me on the lips. Every doubt I had was gone the moment I felt his tongue trace the outside of my lips. I don't know how long we stayed there, but eventually he carried me to my bed and set me down.

"I have to go put Harrison to bed. I'll see you at work tomorrow?"

I pouted at him,

"Don't you even think about leaving me here alone all night. You get your fucking ass back here as soon as Harrison's asleep."

He chuckled, "I guess he'll be fine alone for one night. But you know what? You're going to have to move back in with me."

I blushed deeply, hoping that the darkness would conceal it.

"I don't want to be a mooch."

I could see him think,

"How about this, you take care of Harrison when I have, eh, business, and we'll call it even. Besides, he needs a mother in his life, and I can think of no one better."

My blush darkened, and I could only force out a few quiet words,

"Awww, ya big softie. Get your son tucked in and get your ass back here, I need a teddy bear."

He smiled and departed, leaving me contemplating the revelations that had been revealed tonight. When he returned less than an hour later, I was already deep in a nightmare involving a table, some saran wrap, and Rudy handing Dexter a knife. I watched him take it and look down at me, and I could see the dark flames in his eyes, then he spun and stabbed Rudy right in the heart.

"Sorry Brian."

He moved out of my field of view and I could hear the thump of a body hitting the floor, the slight pressure as he cut the plastic wrap away. He shook my arm, trying to get me moving, and I opened my eyes to see the real Dexter looking down at me with a concerned expression.

"Hey Deb, you alright? You were having a nightmare."

I nodded, then wordlessly flipped up the sheet and gestured for him to climb in. He did so, and I wrapped myself around him.

"I saw your brother. I was wrapped to a table and he handed you a knife. You stood over me, just like Travis, but you-"

He cut me off with a kiss.

"Stabbed Brian instead. Yeah. He offered me a choice. I could come with him, the first person to truly understand me, or kill him and save your life."

"You picked me, your bitchy, annoying foster sister over your true brother? Someone just like you?"

He grinned, "You were more of a friend to me than he was. I could never hurt you, Deb."

We held each other for awhile - the infamous Deb Morgan does not cuddle - but eventually I fell asleep, comforted by his warmth against mine. That was the last nightmare I had for a long time.

Epilogue -

It had been about eight years since Deb had learned my secret, and Harrison and grown into an adorable look-alike of me. He had his mothers eyes, (Which was good because I had been told that mine were creepy), but Deb had beautiful green eyes as well, so there was never any question of parentage. Besides, it's not like we ever actually told anybody we were a couple.

I still made night trips occasionally, but my visits with 'friends' occurred less and less often as the years went on. I would still get a knowing frown whenever I came in at midnight or later unannounced, but my dark passenger was taking a backseat to my lover and Harrison - something I was more than happy to let happen. Deb was happy as lieutenant, she preferred to get out in the field than sit still behind a desk all day, and as such had been forced to turn down a number of promotions. I stayed where I was, it made good money and I got to spend even more time with Deb.

I was happy to say that my dumping ground had remained undiscovered, and even prouder that I hadn't missed a single one of my son's birthdays. He was a smart child, and he reminded me of myself without all the sociopathic tendencies. Of course, with both parents in the police employ, it was natural that he began watching crime shows and Cops, instead of the cartoons that most kids his age were watching.

I decided that he would probably become a great detective when he was older, and as such I had taken to calling him Sherlock, a nickname I think he appreciated. I got into as many arguments with Deb as I did before this whole debacle, but more often than not they ended with a make-up kiss. Or more, if Harrison was at school. I figured that even if I got caught now, my life would've been worth it. I mean, I found true happiness, no small feat for an emotionless serial killer.

It's weird though, I think Harrison would be okay knowing who - what I am. He's already asking me difficult questions about morality, is it alright to do bad things to bad people, etc. But I don't want to find out the hard way if he isn't. So for now I revel in the knowledge that he's a good kid. Maybe someday he'll look through out old cases and ask me about the Bay Harbor Butcher or the Ice Truck Killer. Maybe then I'll tell him the truth.

A/N: Alright, sorry for not updating any of my other fics for a long, long, while, but after finally seeing the season 6 finale, I can't not write this pairing. Turned out to be a great way to break my writers block, might have the next chapters of my other fics out soon.


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